


Turmoil In The Palace

by LilacCrocuta



Series: Medieval Septiplier [21]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, M/M, Poison, Swordfighting, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23451097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacCrocuta/pseuds/LilacCrocuta
Summary: When King Mark is nearly brought down from a poisoning at dinner, Sir Seán and his fellow knights must find the assailant.
Relationships: Ethan Nestor/Tyler Scheid, Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Medieval Septiplier [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681588
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Turmoil In The Palace

The dining hall in the palace was always hectic when it came to what King Mark liked to call "family dinners". He called them such due to the fact that he tended to see his fellow knights and castle staff as his family, though they weren't related by blood, and his biological family was far across the sea most of the time. 

Seán didn't mind it, though. In fact, he rather enjoyed the excitement and loud noises that their family dinners brought, being that he was a loud, excitable person himself. And plus, he got to sit next to Mark, which always brightened his night.

This evening was exceptionally noisy, however, because one of their best knights, Sir Felix, had just returned from his recent visit to Australia, which Sir Seán himself had encouraged. In addition, Mark had just employed a newcomer to the castle, who was also one of the first people to speak out at the announcement Mark had made to the kingdom a while back, and support him. The lad in question was Jeremiah, a rather young man, but very kind of heart and eager to serve the king, whether it be with fetching his reading glasses from another room, or bringing out the horses for their daily run. Seán had once mused to his love that Mark could've given Jeremiah the position of the royal jester, and the boy would be prancing merrily around the castle in his suit. 

Alas, Jeremiah currently had the position of being the royal servant, but not once did the king treat him any less justly than the rest of his surrogate family.

So therefore, on the night of the latest family dinner, Seán settled down in his seat to the right of his lover, who sat down as well at the center of the table, and gave him a warm look before welcoming the others as they poured in from the two entrances to the dining hall. It wasn't long before the room was filled with the sound of loud voices, China being set down, utensils clinking together, and the aroma of delicious food began to float around from nose to nose. As dinner was handed out by Jeremiah himself, Seán had begun to listen to the rather hilarious story that Felix was telling Lady Amy, Lady Evelyn and Lady Mika about, wherein he'd mistook a Great white shark for a dolphin while swimming one morning. 

"I was  _ this close  _ to petting it on the fin." The blond knight was wheezing, earning some amused giggles from his closer audience. He chuckled breathlessly and shook his head in apparent disbelief. "I don't--how does anyone swim there?" 

Seán scoffed, leaning behind Mark to call out to him. "Ye put yer big boy pants on, and just do it! I did it, and I only got bitten by a water snake three times!"

As a ripple of laughter traveled around the table, the Irishman grinned, glancing over at Mark, who nudged him in an affectionate gesture and smiled tenderly at him. As their meal was served to them both, both men dug in with their friends, and the conversations and joking carried on. 

Midway through dinner, Seán jumped from Mark flinching suddenly beside him, and looked over at the other man as the king rubbed at his palm in obvious pain. He furrowed his brow.

"Are ye alright? What happened?" He asked, offering to see the wound. The raven haired man brushed him off, glancing from his injured hand to him while hiding his palm.

"I'll be fine. It was merely a small splinter that  _ attempted  _ to lodge itself into my hand." The king chuckled. Seán grimaced, only slightly reassured by that explanation, but as he opened his mouth to perhaps offer to kiss it better, he happened to glance at the table, as a mug slid their way. He reached up and stopped it with his arm, as Mark followed his gaze, then joined him in looking up at who'd slid the cup across the table. Across from where they sat, Sir Tyler was blushing madly while Sir Ethan held his head in his hands, a giggling mess judging from the way his shoulders were trembling, and the barely audible laughter coming from him.

"My apologies, your highness," the tall knight coughed. "I may have accidentally drank from that, thinking that it was mine."

Seán smirked, noticing Mark roll his eyes in a joking manner. "Get yer own drinks, Tyler!" He chuckled. 

"Agreed!" Mark joined in, giggling as he raised the mug to his lips and took a careful sip from it. Across from them, Tyler scoffed.

"At least I gave it back!"

"That's no excuse." The Irishman snickered, with an exaggerated hand wave in the tall knight's direction. When his friend stammered out a helpless response to argue his point, Seán couldn't help but let the burst of laughter escape him, and as he glanced over at Sir Ethan, saw that the younger knight was leaned back in his seat, tears spilling down his reddened face as he tried to breathe from laughing so hard. It took a lot of strength, but eventually, Seán quieted down his hysterical braying so that poor Ethan could breathe, and as he coughed into a fist, glanced over at where Felix sat, as the Swede busily engrossed the nearby ladies in another one of his hilarious tales of woe. Felix certainly had a way with the women of the palace, he mused with a smile. It was a shock that he wasn't married yet.

Eventually, the table was being cleared off, courtesy of Jeremiah, and as the young man stacked several plates on top of one another to carry off and wash, Sir Seán gave him a kind smile. 

"Yer doin' well, lad." He reassured the servant, before sliding him a shilling from his pocket. With a scarlet blush, Jeremiah carefully took the coin and smiled back at him. 

"T-thank you, sir." He stammered out. The brunet nodded, and turned around to look over at Mark, as the king gave him a knowing smile.

"That was nice of you." He purred out. Seán shrugged, briefly glancing at Jeremiah, as the young man left the dining hall with their plates. 

"Well, I suppose we do want to encourage him to stay with us, don't ye?" He reasoned.

Mark hummed quietly in agreement, running a hand through his raven locks tiredly. It was then that Seán noticed his lover's cheeks flushing a rather dark pink, and that his forehead was glistening with what appeared to be a thin layer of sweat. At once, the smile left his face.

"Are ye okay? Ye look flushed."

The king gave him a mildly confused look. "Are you not hot in here as well?"

Seán's brow knitted together in concern. "N-no." He replied, reaching over to feel Mark's forehead with the back of his hand. As he did, he heard Tyler from across the table.

"Is everything alright over there?"

The Irish knight glanced over at him, pulling his hand away from the magma-like surface that was Mark's forehead, and shook his own head. "No. No it isn't. Mark's comin' down with somethin'."

Tyler's worried expression went stoic in a heartbeat. With a solemn nod, he arose from his chair, whistling for Lady Evelyn, just as Seán felt a clammy hand rest on his wrist. He turned to his lover again, as the king's head drooped a little. He gripped at the hand, a flutter of fear running through his innards, at the same moment Mark's lips parted as he mumbled something out. 

"Bucket…"

Swallowing nervously, Seán gave him a nod, glancing around as Tyler and Lady Evelyn made a beeline for the king's seat. "Tyler, he needs a bucket--"

"I'll get it." Sir Ethan spoke up from across from them, fumbling to get up from the table, before hurrying out of the room. Seán pushed his chair out and turned his gaze to Mark, as Lady Evelyn and Sir Tyler looked him over together. By now, the conversations of the other castle staff around them had quieted significantly, and more of their friends were turning to look at what was going on. As the Irishman worriedly fanned the king's reddening face with a hand, he felt a jolt of alarm upon noticing that Mark was struggling to focus on Tyler and Evelyn. He reached up to gently shake his shoulder. "Mark?"

"What's wrong?" Felix spoke up from nearby. As Seán briefly looked over to his friend, he saw the Swede's eyes widen, just as he frantically pointed at Mark. 

Whirling around, Seán just barely managed to catch his lover by both shoulders as Mark slumped facefirst, and with the help of Evelyn and Tyler, pushed him back into a sitting position, heart hammering in his chest. 

_ "MARK?!" _

To his absolute horror, he saw that the king's eyes were closed, his breathing having gone from slightly labored to soft and shallow within a few heartbeats. By then, nearly everyone at the table was stumbling out of their seats and rushing over to the four of them, clamoring noisily in worry and bewilderment. Evelyn barely managed to keep their other friends away from Mark's unconscious form, and Seán damn-near fainted himself at the hysteria blossoming in his stomach. He'd have lost his cool right then and there, had it not been for Evelyn asking for his help in escorting Mark to her office. With his legs trembling beneath him, he did so, carrying his lover's upper half, while Tyler pitched in, carrying his lower half, and together, they tailed behind the resident nurse, out of the dining hall and down the corridor to where her office was. 

As they hurried after the brunette, Seán risked a glance at Sir Tyler, who had turned his focus from Evelyn and was staring intently at Mark's flushed face, his jaw clenched and eyes cold and yet aflame.

Only when the tall knight lifted his head to briefly look at him did his eyes soften, but even then it was only a little, and the Irish knight felt a small shudder of unease course through to his bones. He could understand that Tyler was angered about the situation, but...why would his anger be directed at Mark?

Lady Evelyn finally emerged from her office an hour after the two knights had brought Mark in for her, and as she stepped out into the waiting room where they sat with Sir Ethan between them, the Irish knight arose from his seat at once, legs trembling.

"H-how is he?" His voice shook as he forced out the words, fearing the worst from the weary look on Evelyn's face. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at his own.

"Not well, I'm afraid." She began, sending a jolt of pure terror through Seán's pounding heart. "But he should recover with a lot of rest. It would seem that he's been poisoned." 

Seán only felt the tiniest glow of relief from that explanation. Behind him, he could hear Tyler and Ethan standing up as well, before the former spoke up.

"Poisoned?" Tyler echoed, disbelief mixing with anger filling his voice. As the Irish knight risked a glance at him, he could see the fire burning behind the taller man's eyes. "How could he have been poisoned? We had a guard at every door and window in the palace! He was surrounded by his closest friends at the table!" 

Seán glanced at the floor, shaking his head. It just didn't make sense to him. "There had to have been a way for an intruder to get in." He murmured, raising his voice. "And we're gonna find it." The Irish knight glanced up at Sir Ethan and Sir Tyler, lifting his chin. "We have to spread out and search every door and window of this palace, every nook and cranny, and we mustn't leave a stone unturned."

"We should start with asking Jeremiah how he didn't see anyone meddling with the king's drink, first." Tyler piped up, earning a look of alarm from Sir Ethan and Lady Evelyn, as Seán blanched from the realization. Perhaps that was why Tyler had looked so furious on the way here...he'd nearly fallen victim to the same poison that Mark had ingested.

He gave a tiny nod, then glanced back at Evelyn. "Right, then. See to it that Mark is protected."

The woman raised her chin, her eyes boring into his own with a ferocity that Seán rarely saw from her. "I will not let so much as a mouse slip into this office, I swear it." 

The Irish knight dipped his head to her, then turned to Sir Tyler and Sir Ethan once more, resting a hand on the butt of his sword at his hip. "I'll search the lower floors of the palace. Ethan, find the others who attended tonight's dinner and spread out with them." He ordered, gesturing to the younger knight. "Tyler, search the dining hall and the kitchen, and if ye can, find Jeremiah and interrogate him if ye'd like." 

Sir Tyler and Sir Ethan exchanged a brief glance, but then nodded to the Irishman, before turning around and marching off together. Seán glanced over his shoulder at Evelyn, who gave a nod of her own before turning around and retreating into her office once more.

He took a deep breath, trying desperately to steel his frenzied nerves, then began to make his way down the corridor after Tyler and Ethan. 

_ Mark will be okay.  _ He knew that he was putting his lover in Evelyn's hands, but as much as he worried for him, the Irish knight was far more worried about the threat of an assailant running amok within their very palace.

Seán ended up searching around the lowermost floor of the castle for nearly half an hour. He'd carefully looked over each window, each dark corner, each wardrobe even, but it didn't look as though an intruder had come crawling in at all. 

He figured that they must've merely covered their tracks well, and kept up his searching. 

In the dining hall, Jeremiah was just finishing up with cleaning off the table, having just gotten settled down from the chaos concerning King Mark. As he pinched the two corners of the silk tablecloth to fold it up, the sound of approaching footsteps startled him into dropping it, and as he whirled around, the young man was very much relieved to see that it was Sir Tyler striding into the room, not that wretched intruder. 

However, he didn't expect the older man to look so displeased.

"S-Sir Tyler?" He practically squeaked out, embarrassed that he had to look up to see the knight's face as the brunet stopped in front of him with a stoic expression.

"Jeremiah." His friend rumbled, looking him up and down for a moment, before clearing his throat. "I've come to ask you a few things."

Feeling slightly more relieved, Jeremiah nodded once, standing up a little straighter. "Of course, S-Sir." He agreed. 

Sir Tyler narrowed his eyes, his gaze boring into the younger man's own as he offered the first question. "When you prepared the drinks for our dinner guests tonight, did you notice anything….suspicious in the kitchen?"

Jeremiah gulped. "S-Sir, I'm afraid I'm rather new to this palace--" He tried to explain, but Tyler cut him off with a raised hand.

"That does not matter. Did you notice anything of suspicion while you were in the kitchen this evening?" The older man practically growled, annoyance radiating off of him. 

The servant trembled nervously and wrung his hands, giving a helpless shrug. "I-I don't think so." He finally stammered out. Sir Tyler looked him up and down once more, but finally dipped his head, and took a step back. "Very well then. Thank you anyway." He huffed, turning around to leave. 

But as the brunet approached the doorway, Jeremiah's eyes widened with a sudden recollection. Hurriedly, he ran after Sir Tyler, waving his arms.

"Wait, wait, wait, Sir, wait--!" He cried out frantically, slowing to a trot as the knight turned around to look at him over his shoulder, eyebrow quirked. "I didn't see anything in the kitchen," He panted. "But when I stepped out to put the dishes out onto the table, I caught sight of Sir Felix fiddling around with one of the chairs."

Immediately, the knight's jaw tensed, and he turned around to face Jeremiah properly. "Which chair?" He demanded curtly.

Jeremiah opened his mouth to tell him, but felt the blood promptly drain from his face as the realization struck him hard. Thankfully, the look on his face must've been enough of an explanation for Sir Tyler, and with a muttered swear, the knight whirled around and took off down the corridor. 

Mark awoke to the sensation of a dull, mildly pounding headache, and sweat-drenched skin. As he dared to open his eyes, he could feel something soft and wet dabbing his forehead, and he slowly turned his head the littlest inch to the right to see Lady Evelyn sitting at his bedside...her bedside, rather. She was resting a cloth soaked in water against his brow, and as she smiled down at him, he recalled what had happened at the dinner table, a shudder running through to his bones as he did.

The nurse gingerly reached down and took hold of his hand, quietly hushing him. "It will be alright now, your highness. Sir Seán has gone to look for the intruder who poisoned you with the others." Her voice, gentle and soft, soothed him almost immediately, and he let out a quiet exhale of relief.

And then suddenly, Lady Evelyn lurched as something struck the back of her head, and she abruptly fell off the bed, eyes fluttering shut. 

With a jolt of horror, Mark tried to lift his head, as her attacker approached the bedside.

Sir Felix grinned down at him, rubbing his right fist as his eyes twinkled. "Well hello there, your highness." 

The king swallowed, his blood turning to ice as he stared up at the Swede, aghast. "It-it was you that did this…?" He whispered out, barely able to speak any louder from his weakened state, with the shock on top of it. 

Felix rolled his eyes. "Oh Mark, surely you must be brighter than that. A nine year old could have figured that out."

Gobsmacked, Mark stared up at him, shaking his head in utter disbelief. "B-but--" He stammered. "I've treated you well for the five years that you've been my knight! I even let you travel to Australia like you've been begging me for so long to do!" 

The Swede cast his gaze down at him once more, and Mark's innards shriveled up at the smirk on his face. Then, Felix reached into his pocket, and pulled out something small--it was a glass vial, the king realized….and it was nearly filled to the brim with a yellowish liquid. 

He looked up at Felix's smug expression, as the blond grinned maliciously, and the realization sank in. "Have you ever wondered why I was so eager to go to Australia, Mark?" 

The king let out a shuddering breath, listening in horror as the knight went on.  "There are so many wonderful poisons that the people there collect...but alas, this one would be too obvious if I'd mixed it into your glass of water. So I went for the next best thing--your chair."

Trembling violently, Mark dared to glance down at the barely noticeable splinter wound in his left palm, then up at Felix as the Swede took a step closer.

"And now," the blond carried on, his expression darkening as his free hand reached down to his hip, before he unsheathed a rather pointed-looking dagger. "I'm afraid you are going to have to swallow this…."

At once, he abruptly pounced upon the king, and Mark just barely managed to reach up and grab both of Felix's biceps, clenching his teeth and struggling with the little strength that he had to keep the poison and that dagger away from him. Felix, however, easily pinned both his wrists, clambering onto the bed to sit on top of Mark's knee as he grinned down at him. 

"Now now, your highness," he tsked, swiftly taking a hold of both Mark's wrists in his right hand, while he popped the small cork off the poison vial with his left thumb. "Shut up and drink this down." 

But Mark refused and thrashed as much as he could, keeping his lips tightly sealed.

Felix, however, just growled down at him, forcing the vial against his mouth and muttering Swedish vulgarities under his breath. 

And then the blond was violently hauled off of him by a massive hand grabbing the back of his shirt collar, and with a shrill cry, Sir Felix released Mark's wrists and dropped the vial, which shattered against the floor.

Mark dared to open his mouth, sitting up on his elbows just in time to see Sir Tyler spinning the Swede around to see him face-to-face. To say that the former looked enraged was an understatement. Sir Tyler looked as though he wanted to shove Sir Felix into their meat grinder and turn the handle. 

_ "How dare you?"  _ The brunet seethed out, one hand gripping Felix's collar while the other was clenched around the Swede's dagger-wielding wrist.  _ "How dare you, Felix? After everything Mark did for you, this is how you repay him?"  _ As he spat his anger down at the blond, his grip around the assailant's shirt tightened to the point where his knuckles went white, and he was trembling with fury. 

The Swede's face had already drained of color as he stared up at his attacker, quivering pathetically, and as Tyler glared down at him, he tore his wide, blue eyes away from the taller knight to scream out something in his native tongue.

Mark saw the nearby doors of the wardrobe burst open as a blur of black lunged out of them, and he couldn't have warned Tyler if he'd tried to.

With his heart leaping up into his throat, he watched helplessly as the second assailant promptly impaled one of his best knights, his closest friends, through the side with a longsword.

The brunet staggered from the sheer force of the blow, and the king saw Tyler's jaw clench as his livid eyes burnt into Felix's own, and then as the blade was wrenched out, his legs buckled underneath him, and he dropped to the floor in a heap, laying there with his back to the king as a river of scarlet trickled out of the crevasses in the side of his armor.

_ "TYLER!"  _ Mark screamed out, barely able to wrench his tearful gaze away from his friend and to his attacker, as she reached up with her free hand to pull her black scarf away from her face. 

Felix just grinned at her, as she gave him a wink. "Thank you, Marzia." 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mark stared desperately down at Tyler, unshed tears blurring his vision as he internally pleaded for him to get up, but when he didn't, his heart dropped. He glared up at Felix and his new friend, as they glanced over at him, both of them smiling wickedly. 

"Well then…." The Swede mused, taking a step closer to the king as he twirled the dagger in his hand. "Where were we…?" 

  
  


Seán had never recalled running so quickly as he was when he made that mad dash down the corridors of the palace. He'd been patrolling the lower floor when it finally occurred to him why it didn't seem as though anyone had snuck into the castle to harm Mark--the assailant was already there.

_ I'm nearly to him.  _ He thought, catching sight of Lady Evelyn's office just up ahead.  _ Nearly there, come on--! _

His legs felt as though they were on fire, and his chest was tight as a bowstring, but he pushed himself to keep running by just reminding himself that there was a  _ murderer on the loose in their very castle, and if he didn't move his arse, he might lose the man he loved. _

The Irish knight had nearly made it there, when he received that last, much-needed adrenaline rush that came from hearing his lover's agonized scream.

_ "TYLER!" _

_ Oh no, oh no, OH NO--! _

He reached Lady Evelyn's room within ten or so more strides, and at that point, not even a door could've stopped him. 

Seán barely hesitated at the wooden barrier that stood between him and his lover. He just gathered together all that fiery rage in his heart and released it with a mighty kick to the handle that loosened the lock, and another that sent the door flying wide open.

And what he saw inside only riled him up further.

Mark was in bed, wide eyed and pale faced, with  _ Felix  _ standing close by, pillow in one hand and a dagger in the other, and both Lady Evelyn and Sir Tyler were sprawled out on the floor, the latter laying in a spreading pool of his own blood. 

Was he infuriated? Beyond belief.

Seán locked eyes with the man who he'd once been proud to call his friend, but now was his arch rival, as far as he was concerned. He grit his teeth, tightly grasping the pommel of his sword, when Mark cried out.

_ "SEÁN, ON YOUR LEFT!" _

With the reflexes of a cat, the Irishman yanked his sword from its sheath and spun around with the blade raised, just in time to block another bloodsoaked one as it swung at his face. His attacker, a young woman with flowing golden hair and piercing eyes, threw him a brief look of surprise, but Seán didn't give her more than that moment to take it in that she'd already lost this battle. 

Knocking her blade aside, he lashed out with his boot, nailing her right on her right kneecap hard enough to unbalance her. As she stumbled back, she struck out wildly with her sword, but Seán easily countered the blow, twisted the weapon out of her hands with his own and bashed the butt of his sword against her forehead. His assailant immediately dropped to the floor, and the Irishman whipped around just in time to see Felix nearly overpowering the king as the two grappled furiously with one another. There was a vein bulging in Mark's neck, and the Swede's eyes shone with glee, almost.

Blood boiling, Seán lunged at his former friend with a guttural snarl, and poor Felix turned around just a heartbeat too late. He was eating the Irishman's fist the moment he did, and in the next moment, he too was on the floor, out cold and probably missing a few teeth. 

The brunet stood there at first, panting heavily as the tremors wracking his body began to subside, and he reassured himself that he'd done it. Felix and his accomplice had been downed, and Mark was still alive. 

_ "Seán--Seán, y-you have to--! Look over Tyler, p-please--!"  _ The frantic gasps of the king jolted him out of his daze, and immediately, Seán focused on the fallen knight nearby, hurrying to his side and sheathing his sword with his heart in his throat. Sir Tyler….wasn't looking good, to put it lightly. He was sprawled out on his side, and the pool of blood beneath him had now become a small lake. His face was nearly white when the Irishman rolled him over onto his back and furiously began untying and stripping off his plate armor to see the wound in his side, and as he worked, he feared that Tyler might have already been lost to them. 

He briefly reached up to his friend's neck with one hand while he used the other to keep undoing the taller knight's armor, and almost sobbed with relief when he felt a pulse, however feeble it was under his fingertips.

Finally, the chest plate of his armor unfastened, and Sir Seán practically tossed it aside, breath hitching as he got a good look at the wound. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't little either. With shaking hands, he twisted around to yank open Lady Evelyn's medical supply drawers, searching for any sort of gauze or cloth to staunch the bleeding, and when he found her stash of bandages, he immediately snatched them and pressed them against the gruesome injury, chest tightening when the knight's breath merely hitched.

"T-Tyler? Tyler, come on, lad." Seán murmured, gently shaking his friend to try and rouse him more. "Come on now, up and at 'em." As he desperately encouraged the taller knight, he risked a glance at the open doorway, then down to Tyler again, a pang of fear lancing through his heart when he saw that the latter hadn't opened his eyes. He shook him again. "Tyler, don't ye dare. TYLER?" 

Behind him, King Mark had begun sobbing quietly, and as he shook his friend for the third time, Seán wanted so badly to do the same. He considered it a miracle when the sound of several footsteps rushing towards the room alerted him, and Sir Bob frantically calling his name from down the hall reached his ears. 

_ "WE'RE IN HERE, HURRY!"  _ The Irishman yelled back, pressing harder against the wound in Tyler's side, just moments before the aforementioned bigger knight stumbled into the room with Sir Wade, Sir Ethan, Sir Nathan, Sir Matthew and Sir Patrick on his heels. The six knights briefly looked around the room, all of them aghast, before Sir Bob took charge and knelt down beside Seán, barking at the others to either help Mark or get the three other people on the floor out of the room. Then he looked over at the Irishman, grabbing more bandages from the drawer to aid him in staunching the flow of blood, as he asked the question.

"What happened here?"

The younger knight exhaled roughly, the shock of the situation finally emerging to hit him full force.  _ "I-it was Felix."  _ As he choked out the words, he dimly noticed Sir Ethan practically collapsing to his knees at Tyler's other side, and grasping his hand in his own trembling one, a ragged cry tearing free from his throat.

Bob ducked his head for a moment and sighed heavily. "I should've known. Through our entire patrol, I hadn't seen so much as a glimpse of that bastard." 

Nodding solemnly, Seán reached over with his free hand to comfortingly hold Sir Ethan's shoulder, another pang jabbing at his heart as he felt it shake with each sob that came from the youngest knight. "It wasn't yer fault. None of us could've known." 

To their right, Sir Wade and Sir Patrick were carrying the strange woman out of the room first, and as they did, Bob glanced from them to Seán, quirking an eyebrow. "Who's she?"

The Irish knight looked up at the woman, then over his shoulder at Mark, who was busy brushing aside Sir Matthew's and Sir Nathan's concerned pestering to meet his eyes with a look of utmost love and gratitude.

He smiled briefly at him, then looked over to his friend again. "Ah, just another intruder."

It was almost a month later when things were finally back to normal in the palace. Felix had immediately been stripped of his title, and he and and his accomplice had been banished from Youtubia as Mark had ordered. Seán, as much as he would miss those good times when he'd been close friends with the Swede, was more than glad to see him go after what he'd done and tried to do. 

It took a while, but eventually, Sir Tyler was back on his feet with the help of Sir Ethan, and even though he no longer needed a crutch to get around, the smaller knight stuck by his side like a loyal terrier. It warmed the Irishman's heart to see his friend bickering lightly with Ethan about how he wasn't bedridden anymore and could stretch his legs if he so pleased. Of course, Ethan insisted otherwise, but Tyler obviously didn't mind it that much. 

Lady Evelyn's recovery had been nearly as hard as Tyler's, though she hadn't been wounded. Her pride and confidence had taken a serious blow from Felix's betrayal, and she doubted that she'd be able to carry on with her job after coming so close to letting her king down.

But even that was able to be fixed, and Seán made sure to talk with her frequently after the attack, wherein he would remind her constantly of all the good she'd done for them, and how upset they'd all be to see her go. Eventually, the light returned to her eyes, and she was able to do her job with a smile on her face again.

And so, when things had finally settled down, Seán clambered into Mark's bed as his lover did the same beside him, and together, they snuggled against one another with the Irishman resting his head against the king's chest. 

And with Mark's heartbeat thudding steadily against his ear, and his gentle fingers running through his brunet locks, he fell into a comfortable sleep with the man he loved.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that was enough angst and fluff for y'all!   
> Stay indoors, stay safe, don't touch your face, and peace out!


End file.
